


and then, finally

by angstlairde



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, I dont do graphic smut, Introspection, Missing Scene, Non-Graphic Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Realizations of Love, Smut, Spoilers: 2x01, Spoilers: 2x02, Spoilers: 2x03, almost declarations of love, and then he put his thingie in my you-know-what and we did it for the first time, ive tried but this is what i do, just a lot of, just kinda vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 15:05:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14107983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstlairde/pseuds/angstlairde
Summary: She’s kissing Wyatt, and it’s even better than she imagined, and she should be thinking about how to save Citizen Kane, but all she can think isfinally.Finally.





	and then, finally

**Author's Note:**

> my second written foray into timeless and it's smut! enjoy <3

She’s kissing Wyatt, and it’s even better than she imagined, and she should be thinking about how to save  _Citizen Kane_ , but all she can think is  _finally_.

 _Finally_.

It felt like yesterday she was stuck with Rittenhouse, with her mother, and attempted brainwashing, and lies, and propaganda, and Wyatt was  _dead_ , and she would never see him again, and she had given up.

 _Finally_.

And then he wasn’t dead, and neither was Rufus, and he was right there in her arms, and she could kiss him, but she didn’t, and let them go, because they had to go and so did she, and then when they were back in 2018 she could have kissed them but Jiya interrupted, and she hadn’t.

 _Finally_.

55 was almost as bad because they had a chance, and Wyatt was this close to her, and she could feel his breath on her lips, and his stubble under her hands, and anticipation was curling in her gut, and then the trunk slammed open, and they didn’t.

 _Fucking **finally**_ , she thought, and pulled him by the tie back to her and pressed her mouth against his. It’s a miracle, honestly, that he’s kept his hands off her since she sang, and he watched with that look in his eye. Well, hands off is relative. He’d been close enough to touch, and hairsbreadth away at all times.

“Finally,” she breaths against his mouth as he works the zipper of her dress, and he smirks into their kiss. She licks at that smirk,  _finally, finally_ , like she’s been wanting to do for a long time, and doesn’t resist a groan when he hauls her up into his arms, and presses his mouth against her neck.

The bed is right there, but he seems more interested in pressing her back against the wall, and she can’t quite care when his hands are slipping in the opening of her dress and sliding across the skin there. 

 _Wow_ , she thinks in a daze. They haven’t even done anything, but his motherfucking  _hands_ are as even more amazing than she’d ever imagined - because, yeah, she imagined them. 

She drops her legs to the floor so she can slide out of the dress, and then she’s in her slip, and realizing that Wyatt is still wearing far to many clothes for their situation, and works to rectify that immediately. She pulls the tie from around his collar, and yanks his suspenders down his shoulders, and he laughs when she fumbles with his shirt buttons, but it quickly turns into the rumbling sound from his chest that she thinks is the best thing she’s ever heard when she gets her hands on his skin.

Wyatt gathers her up into his arms again, and then dumps them both onto the bed, catching the back of her head before she hits the mattress, and presses a kiss to her mouth. His hips are pressed against hers, cradled between her legs, and it has been a long, long time since she had sex left, but this - they have hardly done anything, but it’s better than that was, times fives! For a long moment, he rests on top of her, one hand cupping her head, the other tracing the seam of her slip, kissing her and kissing her and kissing her. 

She’s wanted to do this for so long, and so did he, judging by the way he kissed her like he was a drowning man, and she was oxygen, pulling breath from her lungs, swallowing the noises she make to keep in his chest, in his heart. 

It was everything she could have ever asked for, she thinks, when he finally tugs her slip off,  _finally, finally_.

Then his hands are mapping out her skin, the dips and the imperfections and the little marks no one noticed but him, because she was beautiful, she was, he meant every word he said by the pool, and he couldn’t believe she was letting him, a messy, broken soldier, haunted by his past, kiss her, and hold her, and love her. It was, quite frankly, a miracle.

Wyatt’s fingers trace the edges of her,  _up_  - her jaw, her neck, her shoulders,  _down_  - her sides, her hips, her thighs. And then, across, and down, and  _in_ , and Lucy moans when his fingers press in.

 _Finally, finally, finally_ , the word runs in a loop in her head as he pulls her closer and closer to the end, and when she falls over the edge, it’s the best thing that she’s ever felt.

But no, that’s a lie, Wyatt  pressing against her again, and kissing her gently as she catches her breath is the best thing she’s ever felt, all soft lips, and rough stubble, and his damp fingers curling into her hair at the nape of her neck. 

Lucy is pretty sure she’s died and went to heaven.

He tries to pull away, from some reason, but she pulls him back, one hand in his hair, the other pulling at his pants, wanting them fucking off, and Wyatt chokes a groan.

“You are evil,” he groans, pressing his forehead to her shoulder, panting as she slides her fingers into his pants and around him.

Lucy laughs - she laughs, supremely and incandescently happy - and pulls her hand back, framing his jaw with her hands, and pulling his head back up so she could look him in the eyes, sliding her thumb across his lower lip.

 _I love you_ , she thinks, and it surprises her. Should she love him? Does she love him, really, or is it the post-orgasmic high talking?

 _I love you_ , she thinks again, and its on the tip of her tongue, and that can’t possibly be hormones talking. No, she loved him, and probably had for a long time, but just never had any reason to think about it, especially since the last time she saw him, before the explosion, he had just barely accepted that Jessica was dead. She had no right to go around making declarations of love to men who had practically lost their wives again.

Wyatt smiles softly at her, and traces a finger across her jawline.

“Why are you thinking so much?” he whispers, his breath washing across her face, voice rough. His voice pulls her out of her head, and she tilts her head slightly, and runs her fingers across his face.

“Why are you whispering?” she whispers back, smiling, and Wyatt laughs a little, quietly, like he was trying to not break whatever was going on in the room by speaking loudly, like if he stayed quiet everything would stay just like this, and he looks at her.

“Why haven’t you answered my question?” he asks, pushing a stray piece of hair off her face, and she is filled with so much love for this man at this moment, that she can hardly speak. Instead, she surges up, pressing her mouth against his, wrapping one arm around his neck and shoulders, and kisses him for all he’s worth.

“I want you in me,” she tells him, barely loud enough for him to hear, but his bright blue eyes grow dark, and he kisses her fiercely, before shedding his pants as quickly as he could.

Lucy laughs a little at his franticness, and he crawls back up the bed to her, and kisses her laughs away. She runs her hands all across his skin. He is gloriously naked and bare, all skin and muscle and narrow hips and probably painfully hard, but for all his desperate hands, his mouth is gentle on hers. 

Wyatt moves slowly, and slowly pushes up and in, and  _finally, finally_ , he’s inside her, and she can’t breath, and all she can think is  _finally, finally_ , and  _I love you, I love you, I love you_.

For all their desperate hands and kisses, he takes his time, and she loves him for it, dearly, and painfully. It’s a little ironic, she muses, that they were time travelling, and running out of time, yet for her, for her, Wyatt will take all the time in the world. 

It is harsh breathing, and sheets rustling, and in the dim light, Wyatt is doused in shadow and moonlight, and there is so much adoration in his face, Lucy has to look away, because in that moment, he is the most beautiful person she’s ever laid eyes on, and  _she loves him_. 

And then something snaps inside both of them, like time is running out, and Wyatt moves faster, and rougher, and more desperate, and he gathers her hair in one hand, and presses his other between her shoulder blades to get closer, closer, and she hooks one leg of her hip. And then it is too, too much, and Lucy comes with a cry, moments before Wyatt comes almost silently, hips stuttering.

For a long moment, they lay there, Wyatt still inside her, his face pressed against her neck, Lucy’s hands absently rubbing his back, still needy for contact.

Then he pulls out, and Lucy makes a noise of dissatisfaction when he does. Wyatt laughs once, breathlessly, and smooths her hair out of her eyes.

 _I love you_.

It’s on the tip of his tongue.

_I love you so much._

But he can’t say it, so all he says is,

“Do you want a washcloth?”

Lucy huffs, but smiles, and nods.

“Guess so.”

He leans down, presses a kiss to her lips, then pulls back, holding up a finger.

“I’ll be right back.”

Lucy nods, and stays splayed on the sheets, the picture of nonchalance, which is amusing, considering she’s naked.

He’s gone all of three minutes, but that is still three minutes too long, so Lucy pulls him close when he climbs back on the bed.

“You think Hedy will mind?” he asks, with an impudent grin, and she laughs.

“You better not go around telling everyone,” she said imperiously, with a teasing lilt to her smile.

Wyatt laughs, and falls onto his back, pulling her on top of him.

“I don’t wanna tell everyone,” he says, tucking her close. “I just want you.”

_I love you._

_I love you._

_Finally._

_I love you._

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! drop a comment below!


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